


One Man's ... is Another Man's Treasure

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Lance (Voltron), Consensual Kink, Convenient Galra genetics, Creampie, Dom Keith (Voltron), Dom Shiro (Voltron), Gratuitous amounts of cum, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Public Sex, Safewords are in place but unused, Shiro and Keith are good bros who share their toys, Sloppy Seconds, Spanking, Sub Lance (Voltron), Top Keith (Voltron), Top Shiro (Voltron), belly bulge, cum kink, just a little bit because I can't ever resist, just filthy filthy smut here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23648710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: When Lance found out about Keith's Galra heritage, he had hoped to find some nice and big alien dick hidden in those tight pants.Those hopes were dashed once he managed to seduce Keith of course, but Keith made sure to prove to Lance over time that he had something much better to offer - even more so when Shiro started to join in on the fun.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance/Shiro (Voltron), Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 522





	One Man's ... is Another Man's Treasure

**Author's Note:**

> Only partially proofread because pffff who has the time and focus to proofread nearly 8k of smut, especially if it was supposed to be 3k at most?

" _Lance_."

Honestly, Lance resented that Keith could _do_ this to him. Just his name, but said in that gravelly aroused voice that promised a thousand things Keith wanted to do to him right now, and Lance had to stabilise himself with a hand against the wall to cover up that his knees knocked together and his breath got punched from his lungs in shocked arousal.

He really, _really_ resented that.

He also let himself be pinned to the wall with zero protest, nothing but a breathy 'Keith' leaving his lips after all those unworded promises just made.

Nothing could ever have prepared him for how hard and fast he'd race into the submissive role for the Mullet, of all people. But neither could anything have prepared him for _Keith_ and his natural dominance.

Must be the Galra in him.

He was just a cheat, Lance was sure of it.

Not that it made a difference in how his hands came up behind him to grab the hem of Keith's shirt, tugging him closer while Keith mouthed over the slope of Lance's neck, teeth brushing against skin in a promise to bite.

"I'm going to fuck you against this wall and pump you so full of cum it'll be streaming down your legs."

Lance whimpered, this time only kept upright on his buckling legs because Keith was pressing him against the wall so hard.

Because Keith was not making empty promises there.

No, Keith was actually going to do exactly what he said, remote but public hallway or not.

It was how it had all started too, Lance trying to teasingly seduce his way into Keith's pants not long after they found out about his Galra heritage. He'd asked if Keith was hiding some hot alien dick down there, only for Keith to growl and show him exactly what he was asking after.

It wasn't an alien cock. It was a pretty normal, average human cock. It was the cum that was alien.

When Keith reached orgasm, he spurted veritable _buckets_ \- okay, it was more like cups, but it sure felt like buckets when Lance's lower body was drenched in the viscous liquid. Lance hadn't known he had a cum kink before, but Keith had gladly enlightened him.

So no, there was no lie, no empty promise just to sound hot. Keith meant what he said, and Lance couldn't _breathe_ , the idea of doing that right out here in the open. Sure, nobody was going to pass through this hallway anytime soon, all of them preparing for an upcoming meeting about a mission they'd be going on later, but they _could_.

And Keith was already pushing him against the wall hard, his chest flush against cold metal while a hand groped downward to push down his pants. Keith would need him to step back to angle his hips better sooner or later, but for now he only seemed interested in crowding Lance to the wall as close as possible.

Dominating him as firmly as possible.

They both knew Lance would get up to _antics_ if not shown his place right from the start.

Well… he could still do that.

"Promises, promises," he breathed, unable to bring himself to say it louder, but there was enough tease in his voice to make Keith all but snarl and bite down on the nape of Lance's neck. Lance gasped sharply, his hips bucking involuntarily to seek out the hard line of Keith's erection in his pants, already shamefully desperate from just this little.

"I'll make you some more promises if you want, but you're not gonna like them." Keith laved his tongue over the bite mark he left just once before moving to a new spot right next to it and biting down just as hard again, so Lance's attempt an a witty answer came out as a needy moan instead.

"W-wanna bet?"

That was all it took for Keith to successfully shove his hand down Lance's underwear, thumb hooking on the waistband to pull it down to halfway his thighs with his jeans. He leaned back for just the slightest bit of distance between them, all he needed to land a hard, resounding spank on Lance's backside.

Lance yelped and jumped, but the wall was as likely to budge as Keith when he set his mind to something. And a cold metal wall was not exactly what Lance had been hoping to grind his now bare dick against.

"You're such a needy slut," Keith accused, a smirk audible in his voice. Lance whimpered in response, albeit somewhat obstinately, but the warm hand harshly kneading the flesh of his butt where the skin was hot from the hit kept him from saying anything else. Everything he could say was already said, at least until Keith started demanding answers.

The kneading hand remained where it was, not letting up on the less than gentle squeezing and rubbing, but Keith's other hand disappeared from where it had been pinning Lance's hips in place. Lance started wiggling in anticipation almost immediately, and Keith chuckled in a way that was all but guttural before his other hand released Lance as well - only for it to come back down in a spank just as hard as the previous one, in the exact same spot.

Lance knew Keith wanted to see a hand shaped print on his butt and he would judge him hard for that later. Later, when he wasn't crying out needily at the sharp sting that had his cock twitch hard with arousal despite the close vicinity of the cold metal wall.

To both avoid that freezing touch and get more of that hot palm, Lance started pressing his hips back a little harder, tilting them up to push his butt nicely into Keith's hand. He was rewarded by that hand moving from the kneading it had picked back up from before, to instead squeeze hard enough to pull Lance's right cheek away from the other, spreading him to grant Keith the access to his hole that he wanted.

And although Lance should've expected it, he still jumped with an indignant shout when Keith squirted cold lube straight into his crack without the slightest warning. Keith didn't allow Lance to squirm out of his grip, but as the lube slid wetly down Lance's crack and thighs into his bunched up jeans, he pulled hard on the arse cheek in his hand to make Lance take a step back with him. Lance got a careless push between the shoulder blades from a hand still holding a bottle of lube - their big bottle, meaning Keith had specifically cornered Lance in this hallway to fuck him, since that bottle was not something you casually carried around just in case.

Lance went down with a displeased yelp, fingers scrabbling for a hold against the smooth wall so he wouldn't drop further than with his torso horizontal. Keith had taken him just too far away from the wall to make it easy to keep himself propped up against it, but when did Keith ever make anything easy for Lance?

Not when he pushed Lance's shirt up to tuck it through its neckline and used the dip in the small of his back to pour out a generous helping of lube for easy reach, before audibly discarding the bottle on the floor behind him.

"K-Keith-" Lance hissed in protest, trying to wriggle out of Keith's grip so he could get just a bit closer to the wall, just a little more comfortable.

"Stop squirming and take it, you are too experienced as a cumslut to be so fussy." The release of Lance's buttcheek lasted only for a split second before the next punishing crack of Keith's palm on the soft flesh echoed down the hall.

"Fuck…" Lance dropped his head and bit his lip hard, giving up on his attempts to get more comfortable while Keith easily pulled him back in place - the place that was just a finger width further than Lance wanted.

"Good boy," Keith sneered, swiping two fingers through the shallow puddle on Lance's back and sliding them up and down his crack a few times. Lance braced himself just in time to be able to blow out a long, relaxing breath as both fingers pushed into him with short, gentle thrusts.

For all his bad boy attitude and rough manhandling, Keith never risked damaging Lance here, and would always make sure that any pain was slight enough that it would add to the pleasure rather than take away from it.

Deep inside, even the _emo_ Mullet was a softy and Lance revelled in it.

Although 'softy' didn't count for much when he was two fingers into Lance's arse and eager to get something different inside there altogether.

Lance tried his very best to accommodate and tilt his hips back as much as possible, offering his arse and especially his hole up for Keith's greedy fingers pumping into him, barely even bothering to try scissor them for an increased stretch. Keith was impatient and hungry and every single one of his movements screamed it, from the fast thrusts with his hand to the grind of his still clothed groin against the side of Lance's arse.

"Keith," Lance whined, this time more demanding. More of an order, more of an instruction Keith would listen to in this current state. It was a state where Keith controlled Lance, but just because Lance was submitting didn't mean he didn't have the power to steer Keith where necessary.

And Keith obeyed without a hitch, pulling his hand back just enough to grant himself the space needed to add a third finger, pushing in firm and steady, his other hand keeping Lance's hips as still as possible.

As still as possible wasn't _very_ still, but it was more than nothing with Lance writhing and squirming to press back onto those fingers now, rather than the earlier attempts to get closer to the wall where he would be able to hold on better. Who cared about the stability of pressing his elbows to the wall while Keith crowded him close when there could be _more_ of those penetrating fingers to be had? More and deeper and "-fuck, Keith, _please-_ "

"Just a little looser, darling," Keith muttered in his ear, bent over him so his chest all but brushed Lance's back if he were to arch up rather than down - the latter his choice only because it got him the leverage to push back on those fingers better. Keith's hot panting breath on his ear was a serious temptation to push his back up into his lover instead though, and it was just the vague awareness of the shallow, already spilling puddle of lube on the small of his back that kept him from doing just that.

 _Just a little_ _looser_ , and he's get that nice, hard dick to pound him until he saw stars without needing a window for it.

 _Just a little_ _looser_ _,_ and he'd soon be gushing streams of cum down the back of his thighs; a feeling he found so disgusting the first time as it reminded more of diarrhoea than anything, but something he had long learnt to associate with _Keith_ and _being owned_ since, ridiculously arousing compared to his initial feelings about it.

Keith had shown him many a kink he never expected he'd have, but now begged for like the thirstiest slut.

"Keith!"

This time Keith obeyed like Lance wanted, fingers pulling out faster than if Lance's insides had just burnt them. Keith's hand swiped through the puddle on Lance's back messily, not caring this time for how much would spill down his sides because all he needed was his palm covered. One palm to quickly tug on

his own erection, so he could line it up with Lance's hole and press the tip to the ring of muscles that fluttered in response.

There was beat of silence, a second they both held their breaths, waiting for the other to call it off - but they never did and it always ended with a whoosh of air from both their lungs and a sharp press and harder pressure of Keith's cock penetrating Lance's hole.

Lance threw his head back to moan out loudly, his whole body twitching in his attempts to relax his muscles and let Keith in. Keith may not have a weird alien super-sized cock, he was still of a girth that meant Lance needed to _focus_ on relaxing the muscles down there to let him in. And to be fair, Keith had usually worked him up into a state where focusing was even further from his forte than usual - this time included.

"C'mon Lance, I got you," Keith murmured, his voicer low and gravelly close to Lance's ear. It was all he really needed to let out a shuddering breath and then _let go_ , the relaxation coming in a deep exhale from his lungs. Keith pushed in to the base with ease almost immediately, sheathing himself so deep his sharp hipbones poked Lance's arse hard enough it hurt the previously spanked cheek.

Lance wanted to beg again, to let Keith know he wanted him to move, to start, to give him more, but he couldn't bring out the words anymore at this point. All that escaped his throat was a high-pitched keen of need, and Keith's dark chuckle in his ear followed without missing a beat.

The warmth removed itself from Lance's back, signifying Keith stood up straight, and the grip on his arse got firmer, squeezing harder - on both cheeks this time for optimal leverage. That was the last bit of a wait Lance had to endure before Keith drew his hips back and slammed them back forward, ramming into Lance painfully hard and driving him quite literally up the wall.

Lance scrambled for a better hold on the smooth metal, his fingers finding no purchase and definitely not in time before Keith repeated the brutal motion - again and again, punching sharp cries and moans from Lance's throat and making his fingers curl like claws against the wall uselessly.

"Your hole is so fucking _tight_ every time," Keith growled, his thrusts gaining a rhythm, a sharp and harsh pace to pound and hurt in exactly the way Lance _loved_. Keith knew how to ram into his prostate like it was his second nature, painfully pleasurable and making Lance gibber for more and mercy at the same time, undecided whether he loved or hated it.

 _He loved it_.

He loved it and loved it and loved it, and he cried out for more with no care for the fact that they were in _a fucking hallway_ where anyone of the team - _or worse, Allura or Coran -_ could walk in on them. He couldn't think, couldn't stop to consider being quiet, not with Keith balls deep inside him and ploughing him like a muddy field to sow corn in.

His fingers were slipping as his palms grew increasingly more sweaty against the smoothness of the wall, every hard thrust into his body adding to his lack of grip on it. He had to scramble every now and then to pull his upper body up higher again, but Keith didn't give him a break to find his equilibrium at all.

If anything, Keith seemed to be _trying_ to make Lance lose it. His thrusts not letting up for Lance to clamber up against the wall, his grip on Lance's hips only tightening further in what already felt like bruises, his pants coming with soft, deep sounds that were definitely moans despite being barely audible over their own breathing.

It all drove Lance insane to the point he could no longer hold on, his muscles going lax to let him collapse between Keith and the wall, a loud moan of defeat and pleasure tearing from his throat like a man _tortured_.

Keith's preparedness to catch him was all the proof Lance's hazy mind needed to know Keith had indeed been doing all that on purpose. There was no other way Keith would've been poised and ready to slip his hands from Lance's bruising hips under his chest to keep him from actually falling, lifting his torso up just enough that he could shuffle them a small step forward and lean Lance back against the wall, now finally close enough that he wouldn't have to worry about slipping anymore.

Not with Keith nailing him up against it, anyway.

Keith scratched blunt nails over Lance's chest to find his nipples, pinching them hard and mean to draw a few crying gasps from Lance. Like this Lance had no leverage whatsoever to keep Keith from fucking him closer and closer to the wall though, his feet shifting under them to find a shaky balance against his will, and it was clear that _that_ hadn't been Keith's intention with this fuck.

Those strong hands found their way back to the bruising hold on Lance's hips, dragging him back to the position Keith wanted him in - Lance's back arched almost horizontally, but his forearms and face pressing against a no longer cold metal wall.

His face was slipping in his own sweat and drool and Lance would've been embarrassed if Keith would give him the chance to. But the chance was _not_ given, just harder and harder pounding and deeper, rougher grunts of Keith chasing after that edge, _so close, so very close-_

"K—Keith," Lance garbled up against the wall, rocking his hips back against Keith's grip on him as a plea for attention to his cock. Keith had ignored it entirely and Lance needed- he _needed_ a hand, a touch, something to help him over the edge.

"Such a desperate little slut."

Lance would never understand how Keith managed to say such a thing and sound so _fond,_ even with those words, but it wasn't something he got to contemplate now either.

Not with them both so close, almost there, _almost_ -

Not with Keith wrapping one hand around Lance's cock so tight it almost hurt, and sending him crashing over into his orgasm with a shriek of pleasure so guttural and sudden it barely sounded human.

And that, like usual, was all Keith really needed for himself. He took one, two, _three_ more thrusts in Lance's convulsing, clenching heat before he made a similar sound, growling and deep and animalistic, releasing with his hips pressed as hard into Lance's supple backside as physically possible. He quivered for just a beat or two before his hips picked back up to thrusts, but slower now, just to milk out his orgasm, to drag himself along just a while longer as he rode that edge of pure ecstasy while buried deep into Lance arse.

Lance didn't get to enjoy an orgasm as long as Keith did, but he _did_ get the pleasure of finding his wits again in the middle of it. Because Keith's orgasm was _long_ , and even after he came down from that delirious state of heaven, his cock was still pumping large spurts of seed into Lance's hole that, so thick it was only borderline liquid, as if truly attempting to fill him up to his limit.

Fuck - if Keith didn't try.

Lance was drawn from his haze - nearly _high_ on sex and _Keith_ at this point - by an unexpected rumble from behind him - still Keith, but suddenly not talking to Lance, not to Lance at all.

"Give me- give me a minute… and he's all yours…"

There was a confirmatory hum that was definitely _not_ Keith, and a sharp, full-body shudder ran up Lance's spine at the sound of it. Keith's grip on him squeezed for a second with an appreciative groan, his cock still lodged deep inside of Lance twitching with pleasure at his slight movement, and letting out a bigger, thicker spurt of cum in the seemingly unending streak.

"Take your time, Keith," Shiro spoke conversationally. "There's no rush. I can have him once you're done with him."

Lance _would_ have had an orgasm just from that casual remark if he hadn't just peaked half a minute ago to set Keith off - Keith, who was still going and would for another minute or two. That's why Shiro was so seemingly patient. That's why Shiro only showed up now.

Shiro never showed any interest in getting it on with the guy who was like a little brother to him, but he wasn't secretive either about loving _nothing_ like he loved Keith's sloppy seconds.

Lance wanted desperately to make some comment - something sassy, something seductive, even something submissive would do, as long as it came out in actual words that showed he hadn't completely lost control - but all he managed to make was a garbled moan up against the ungiving wall, his arse pressing back against Keith just that little bit harder at the mere sound of Shiro's voice.

"N-not even done with you, and already so… _so_ hungry for Shiro's cock," Keith chuckled, breathless and amused, overwhelmed by his own pleasure as well as completely in charge at the same time.

Lance had nothing but whimpering moans to respond to that, quivering under Keith's grip and around his ever unloading cock until an end was finally reached. It felt like forever, and it felt like Lance just chugged several large bottles of water after another, but _with his_ _butt_ , but an end was reached eventually.

Reluctantly.

Lance would never have imagined that he'd _love_ a bloated feeling like this, his insides liquid yet hard with how stuffed full he was, all of his abdomen straining to release it and ease this pressure.

He should hate the feeling, should think of having a stomach flu or food poisoning with this sort of bloating, but Keith had more than successfully conditioned him into _loving this feeling more than anything,_ and it meant he whined at the loss rather than relief when Keith finally pulled out to step back.

A gush of cum followed out, running down Lance's inner thighs and dripping from his balls, watched but not touched by the man who put it there, since Keith busied his hands with tucking himself back into his pants rather than making Lance feel any less like a filthy cumdump in a still very much public hallway.

"There, done with him." Keith's voice was deep and raspy from their activities, sending hot tingles down Lance's spine. "He should be all ready to take you like this, Shiro."

While Lance strained against the wall, fingers scrabbling like before when he needed to find a hold, but now in a misplaced attempt to find whoever was going to stick a cock back into him and continue this streak of pleasure and _heat_ , Shiro hummed an acknowledgement that still sounded no different than if they were discussing the weather over their morning coffee. Like Lance wasn't a complete wreck of need and messiness who was being passed over to him by Keith like the salt shaker at a dinner table.

"He sure looks like it, good job Keith."

Keith gave Lance's arse one last pat, almost affectionately like one would pet their dog before leaving for work, before stepping away and finally vacating his spot up against Lance for their team leader. "Have fun then. I'm just gonna hop into the shower now, if you don't mind."

"Don't forget we have a team meeting in ten doboshes or so," Shiro reminded him kindly. It was a remark that should maybe _really_ have alarmed Lance, considering his current state, but with hot skin and cool metal making contact with his bruised hips on either side he was far too distracted to actually take in what was being said.

Shiro's hands were so much kinder than Keith's, soothing over the abused skin, mapping out the damage with gentle, loving strokes. It was intoxicating - the _contrast_ was intoxicating, and Lance wanted so, so much more of it.

"I'll be quick," Keith promised, his voice far in the background for Lance now.

Forgotten. Who cared about Keith and his shower. He had Shiro behind him, the heat of his crotch so close to Lance's arse he could feel it, but not close enough to touch and leave a wet spot on Shiro's clothes.

"I love it when you are a mess like this," Shiro muttered fondly. Two hands squeezed over Lance's cheeks just enough to pull them apart and bare the leaking hole to Shiro's gaze - then two thumbs stroked up from Lance's perineum to his hole, pushing inside to get all the leaking cum they'd gathered back into Lance's eager body.

Lance felt himself tremble slightly under the attention, holding his breath for what would come next, and he was not disappointed - like Shiro would ever disappoint him in this. Holding him still with the ungiving metal hand, Shiro slipped one thick, long finger into Lance without resistance, sliding in smoothly like they were made to fit. It wasn't half as thick as Lance wanted right now, but it was perfect for the bit of torture Shiro clearly had in mind.

Lance's knees buckled as the finger pressed down on his overly sensitive prostate, rubbing it firmly as if it was a nipple he was trying to get to pebble up.

"Shi-Shiro- please, t-too much-!" Lance pressed his forehead to the wall as he cried out, back arching deeper and hips pressing up higher - completely counter-productive to getting away from the over-stimulation, but there was little else he could do. Begging and crying were his only options, because there was no way Shiro would let him out from where he was pinned so firmly between the wall and a hard, aroused body.

Not until Shiro was done with him.

"Keith took such good care of you," Shiro hummed, calm and sounding still entirely unbothered. He pumped the finger a few times for good measure, angling just so to ensure several obscenely wet squelching sounds, before the finger drew out again.

"Please Shiro," Lance begged quickly at his second of respite, trying to make the heavy tremble in his legs stop. "Just give me- give me a minute, please, it's too much-"

"I would if I could," and Shiro sounded almost like he meant it, faux-apologetic and everything, "but there's no time for that right now. Don't worry, Lance, I'll make sure you enjoy yourself too."

"Shiro-ooo-" Lance whined long and pitiful, but it went ignored, the tell-tale sounds and movements behind him telling him Shiro was undoing his pants to pull himself out and line up with Lance's hole.

And here was the thing.

When all of this started it was because Lance cornered Keith, hoping for some nice, big alien cock to be hidden in those pants, maybe with ridges and bumps and hmm, a thick knot at the base, just like his toys back home. He wasn't earnestly expecting it of course, but he had _hoped_ and definitely had _teased_ for it.

But Keith's dick was entirely normal and human. Pretty average, maybe just a little thicker or longer than most but mostly just _average_. His balls were large and heavy and he probably had a prostate the size of a Balmera with the amounts of cum he produced, but his cock was _normal_.

It was when Shiro came into play that Lance realised he had been looking at the wrong person for a monster of a dick.

Shiro was _hung_. And by _hung_ , Lance meant really, _really_ _hung_ , considering the toys he had back home. Had Lance been a woman, he would've worried about the fit, honestly.

Luckily for him Shiro was well aware of what he packed and always made sure he wasn't going to hurt Lance more than he enjoyed. Either he'd make sure there was some thorough preparation by himself or Lance, or he'd fuck Lance only after Keith had done a good number with the stretch of Lance's hole already - most commonly the latter, since he very clearly got off on Keith's mess inside of Lance - but was much more inclined to be 'better safe than sorry' and not have any penetrative sex with Lance if Keith had not been there before.

Which was really nice of him, if a bit frustrating at times, but at least Lance would get the pleasure of that huge cock inside of him after Keith had fucked him, because Keith's cum was like damn catnip to Shiro.

"Now hold still for me, kitten, and don't tense up."

Lance bit his lip and took a deep breath so he could repeat the process of letting it out slowly as he was penetrated, just like with Keith before. It helped him relax his muscles despite the stretch, the thickness spearing him open and forcing his insides to accommodate. The heavy tremble of Lance's legs was back but Shiro made sure to hold onto him, one hand on a hip and the other slipping under Lance's chest to stabilise him, almost cradling him against Shiro.

Almost, but not quite, since Lance was a sticky mess of lube and cum after Keith had his merry way with him, and Shiro was fully dressed.

With the way cum was squelching out of Lance's hole around Shiro's cock, the Black Paladin was bound to end up with at least some staining on his pants after this, but that was a worry for later. Right now, all Lance could feel was the pressure and the pleasure, and all he could hear was encouraging hums from Shiro over him and the obscene wet sounds from below.

Hot cum was running down the inside of his thighs again, where the previous trails were just starting to get dry and crusty, but now it was also starting to leak through the barrier of his underwear bunched around his knees to seep lower, down his calves.

"So beautifully filthy," Shiro all but cooed into Lance's ear, making him give another shuddering whine of need for more and _need fo_ _r less_.

His whole body jumped when Shiro angled his hips to put extra pressure up against his prostate again, the plaintive whine turning outright desperate and begging at the over-stimulation - too soon, _too much_ \- and Shiro, asshole he sometimes was, softly chuckled while bottoming out.

"You're always responsive but this is on a whole new level." Shiro gave a first, careful thrust with his hips, both of them revelling in the filthy sound of a new gush of cum being squeezed out. "I wonder if I can make you cum just on my cock today. Would you like that, kitten?"

Lance would most definitely like that - he would like that _a lot_ \- but he had no idea how to articulate while impaled on Shiro's cock and with the hard pressure on his aching prostate, so all he could answer with was a garbled mix of a whine and a moan and a little humping movement of his hips that he regretted almost immediately, since it put his own weight as extra leverage against his prostate and forced a dribble of precum out of his own half hard dick.

At least it got Shiro to move, slow and steady and _maddening_ , but at least he was setting an actual pace now. Smooth slides all the way in and almost entirely back out, seemingly calculated to get the most intense friction up against Lance's prostate and the filthiest sounds out of the place their bodies met. Lance couldn't stop the tears running down his face from the over-stimulation, but he wasn't anywhere near considering his safeword either. It hurt- it hurt but it felt so, _so_ good…

He didn't know how or why, but Lance somehow managed to pry one clenching hand away from the wall to slide down his body, assuring his shirt was still tucked through its neckline firmly and then down his chest with shaking fingers, letting each slow roll of Shiro's hips into him lead the curl of his fingertips and the scratch of blunt nails over his skin. He gave his own nipples each a moment, his moans and whimpers rising in volume after a first sharp reaction got Shiro's encouraging hum of approval.

But there was one thing he wanted to touch even more on himself right now. A year ago he would've scoffed and thought it was obvious that he wanted to stroke his own cock at this point, but a year ago he didn't know the maddening pleasure that Keith and Shiro could lead him through on their little tag team rutting. A year ago he might as well have been a virgin - maybe not a stranger to sex and with plenty of experience with men and women from the Garrison, but it was all laughably vanilla experience.

None of that from before could hold a candle to what these two men could do to him.

"Go on, feel it," Shiro chuckled against his ear, voice warm and dark like a syrupy chocolate sauce. "Touch it, and feel just how full you are, filled with me and everything that Keith gave for you to keep."

Lance's breath stuttered at the thought, and with a soft whimper he finally allowed his hand to flatten on his chest, palm smoothing down the curve of his belly.

It was bloated and full, as if he had just escaped his abuela's dinner table a moment ago, stuffed with as much food as he could physically contain. Thing was that he hadn't eaten since breakfast over four vargas ago, and his actual stomach was empty.

All Keith, it was all Keith who had pumped him so full - and then the thick movement of Shiro's large cock pressing into him with a sharp thrust, allowing Lance to feel the movement through his hand as much as up through his arse.

He cursed weakly, fingers tightening against his stomach and head dropping back against the wall, his toes curling in an attempt to get higher and more and _he was so close to his next orgasm already_ _now_.

"You clench around me so tightly when you touch your belly. You love being so full and messy, don't you kitten? Don't you wish you could be like this all day?"

All of Shiro's thrusts were sharper now, his hand coming down to splay over Lance's over his belly, pressing his palm down so he could feel every deep push of Shiro's cock right there.

And fuck, the fantasy he was painting there - yes that was definitely something Lance wanted. And in this moment, the unrealistic bit of such a thing was utterly unimportant, it was just the pleasure so strong and hard it left his tongue numb to the words he wanted to garble in agreement, little but the moans Shiro's thrusts punched out of him managing to come over his lips.

Like this, the fantasy seemed all too real and legit, and the thought of feeling like this for the rest of the day, pounded deep and messy by Shiro with thick globs of Keith's cum squeezing out of his hole and down his thighs every so often - the thought of going to bed so full and heady and on a cloud of pleasure so thick that he wouldn't even know the difference between sleep and wakefulness, because the dream wouldn't _end_ -

And just like that, with Shiro all but purring in his ear to paint him obscene pictures with his words, Lance was coming all over again, hips jutting back up against Shiro's in sharp little humps of pleasure and need while his cock released a messy splatter of cum over his own underwear between his knees.

Shiro's hand over his tightened to weave their fingers together and use Lance's belly as a proper hold, like the other hand still firm on Lance's hip. While Lance turned to jelly in Shiro's grip - if he had felt weak in the knees after being fucked to an orgasm by Keith earlier, he _definitely_ didn't know where his bones had gone off to after being given another one so fast by Shiro - Shiro braced his feet and changed his pace from the languidness he had retained even with the sharper thrusts to something _hard_ and almost punishing.

Lance couldn't do anything but whine and moan while Shiro chased his own orgasm with a hard pounding of Lance's arse, rough little grunts just above Lance's ear keeping him fully interested despite feeling quite wrung dry at this point.

That is, wrung dry with his own orgasms. There was nothing dry about the amounts of cum Shiro was forcing to spill from him with this new, hard pace.

Lance's inner thighs were covered in both the crusty layer of what had dried and new, thick liquid layers finding their way down. His underwear was soaked.

Fuck, when he shifted his feet slightly he realised his _shoes_ were sopping.

He gave a loud whine of protest against that notion, and Shiro's grip tightened to the point it was almost painful. With a loud, rough breath of air Shiro came, his hips pumping erratically to add his load to the mess inside of Lance, even if it would be a diminishable amount compared to what Keith had left.

And yet Lance could swear he felt a little fuller, a little more complete, with Shiro still buried as deep inside as physically possible but spent, everything he had to give spilled inside.

They stood like that, bent over against the wall in the deserted hallway, for maybe a dobosh or two, but it felt like far less when Shiro carefully pulled away from Lance, leaving first his upper body cold without the presence of the heated chest looming over it, and then his lower body even colder as Shiro's dick slipped out with a bit of cum. Lance shivered, both arms up against the wall in front of him to brace himself again, feeling cold and empty and _needy_ despite having quite reached his limit for now.

Had they been anywhere else - either of their bedrooms or Keith's, the pool or the spa-like facilities Lance had discovered over the time they spent in this Castle ship and that he favoured over any other room by now - this would have been the point where Shiro would gather him up in his arms and find a shower or bathtub to clean him. He would be put into soft pyjamas before tucked into a bed with a large, strong chest to cuddle against, or sometimes left naked but no less comfortable with skin to skin contact from head to toe.

Sometimes Keith would've stuck around until Shiro was done with him and take him back for a similar ritual of cleaning and cuddling, maybe a little more stilted and awkward, but with just as much care and feeling.

And sometimes, when Lance was really lucky, the two of them would have done such a number on him that they agreed they both needed to take care of him, and he'd have four hands washing and pampering him, and two chests pressing to him from either side, all but caging him into a slightly too warm but somehow especially comfortable bed.

This time though… this time Keith had purposely ambushed him in a hallway, remote but public, and there was no 'picking him up' like Shiro would do, and carrying him to a place to rinse off the copious amounts of cum in and on him. Not without a very high risk of running into of of the Castle's inhabitants that would really rather go without an eye-full of Lance in this state.

So technically Lance should've seen this coming, but he still squawked in surprise _and_ affront when Shiro sunk through his knees a little to reach Lance's pants pooling between his ankles and dragged them right back up to his hips.

The fabric was _wet_ and _cold_ and this was absolutely _disgusting_ , so no amount of post-coital bliss could stop Lance from struggling against Shiro's attempt to close his fly for him and push the man away entirely.

"That's _gross_ Shiro, what the fuck?"

"You'll need to be somewhat dressed to get to one of our bedrooms for a change of clothes," Shiro pointed out, sounding at least somewhat apologetic. He took the moment to pull up his own pants and close them, making a face just like Lance felt like at the way the front of it got soaked with… well, _Keith_.

"Fuck 'a change of clothes'," Lance narrowed his eyes, the gesture of his hand flippant but his intent more than serious. "What I need is the closest _bath_ , and that is two hallways down from here - hallways that nobody but I ever goes through."

"Except you don't have time to go down there and spend some time luxuriously bubbling away in an Altean hot tub." With Lance's complete lack of an attempt at closing his own pants, Shiro's hands reached for his fly once more, this time more insistent and less easy to get rid of. "We have exactly three doboshes left to get to the bridge for a meeting. If we hurry we can both change into a fresh pair of pants in my room, but we're not passing _that_ close to Hunk and Pidge's rooms with your soaked pants around your ankles.

Lance gaped, stopping his attempts at getting Shiro's hands away from his pants. "You can't be serious! I'm not going to stand around for a meeting with the whole team like this!"

"That's why we want to hurry for some clean pants," Shiro patiently reminded him, tugging his shirt from where it has been pulled through his neckline by Keith what seemed like forever ago now. With no other reaction from Lance than a look of pure disbelief, he finally heaved a sigh and lifted Lance by the waist as if he weighed nothing, laying him over a shoulder in an effortless fireman carry without paying Lance's cries of protest any heed. Shiro turned and started a swift pace down the hallway to get back to their bedrooms for clean pants to be found.

And Lance could not disagree _any more_. The mere idea that he would be showing his face to the others in this state - his best bro Hunk who'd already seen more than he ever wanted, poor little Pidge, space-uncle Coran who should be put in the same sentence as the word 'sex' as much as your parents should be, _Allura_ \- there was no way, absolutely no way! He was skipping this meeting and spending it in a shower or a bathtub and the blame for that would be entirely on Shiro and Keith, not himself!

That said, none of his protests or thrashing over Shiro's shoulder actually _worked_.

Shiro completely ignored anything he had to say, no matter how foul his language got - and damnit, that usually worked on Shiro to at least make him acknowledge the cussing to correct it - and any and all struggles were useless against a Galra tech arm in the first place. The only sign that Shiro was actually hearing him was the pat of a hand against his already plenty abused backside to get his attention, along with an _order_ to be quiet now as they entered the hallway of the Paladin's quarters, lest his loud protests would actually draw Hunk and Pidge out.

And boy, did Lance hate that his jaw closed with a loud click, his protest going silent with a last, miffed huff. Of course he wasn't ashamed of his ability to follow orders from his superiors when necessary, but this was just humiliating.

Slung over Shiro's shoulder like a bag of flour, his pants soaked and his shoes potentially dripping, carried down to Shiro's room like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"I'm not going," Lance stated once Shiro put him down behind closed doors. Shiro's room, not Lance's. Shiro would not fit any of Lance's spare pants, even if he stopped his sulk long enough to find them for Shiro, and this was obviously anticipated.

Shiro ignored the statement and got two pairs of clean pants out, something casual to switch into for himself, and a pair of loose sweats for Lance that were too obviously not his. But then again, _anything_ from Shiro's closet would be obviously out of place on Lance, so at least something this baggy would acknowledge that by itself.

"I'm not putting that on," he refused again, glaring down Shiro as his leader chucked his own ruined pants and did a quick wipe over his privates with it before pulling on the fresh pair.

"I refuse," Lance insisted, but then proceeded not to fight against Shiro's hands coming back to his fly to undo his pants and peel the wet fabric down his legs. There wasn't much to salvage with them so Shiro used his own discarded pair to give Lance a similar cursory wipe that wasn't _nearly_ enough, before grabbing an ankle to start wrestling him into the sweatpants.

"Shiro!" But what were his protests when he was forced to hop on one leg to balance, because Shiro was strong and not taking any shit. And neither did he take any shit with the other leg, drawing the sweatpants up to Lance's hips successfully in under a minute from the moment they entered his bedroom.

"Stop stalling, Lance," Shiro admonished, sounding entirely serious and stern and _Black Paladin_ , nothing like the horny bastard of five doboshes ago fucking Lance in a hallway.

It jerked Lance from recalcitrance to instinctive obedience, and they were halfway to the bridge before he remembered he was supposed to be struggling at all. There was more warm cum leaking down his legs, no less than before, and every step only seemed to make it worse. He was about to open his mouth and start protesting again when Shiro pushed him up against the wall of the current hallway, so close to the bridge, so close to where anyone could now be rushing by to get to that meeting.

"You're going to stop your protests and stop pulling that face. We will get in there and have this meeting like planned, and no matter how much cum is leaking from you, you're going to act like nothing's wrong in front of the team, understood?"

Lance gulped heavily despite himself. Shiro's tone was… a juxtaposition. He couldn't decide whether it was an authoritative command as his superior officer or as his dominant.

He couldn't _decide_.

It was only the hint of a smirk flitting over Shiro's face at Lance's obedient silence that finally tipped him off that it was _the_ _latter_ _, it was really the latter_ , but then he was already being dragged into the room where the rest of the team was assembled, Shiro smiling most amicably while making some vague excuse about why they were late and Lance was wearing his sweat pants.

An 'accident' during training.

They all bought it, of course, despite Lance's obvious squirm trying to find a way to stand with his legs pressed together and his arse clenched tight against more leaking, without looking weird about it.

They all bought any flimsy excuse Shiro could ever come up with, because nobody could ever suspect Shiro of lying or covering anything up, ever.

They all bought it - except for Keith of course. Keith was smirking so pleased, one might think he just single-handedly defeated Zarkon. And no amount of dirty looks from Lance could wipe that smirk of his face.

Lance squirmed, _enjoyed_ the hot trail running down the back of his left leg, and plotted _revenge_.


End file.
